


violent delights

by polarkai



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Episode: s03e09 Reign, F/F, Fluff, Sam Arias Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:35:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22807945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polarkai/pseuds/polarkai
Summary: Sam has her things, where she bakes cookies for Ruby’s soccer team and goes to PTA meetings and gets wine-drunk with Kara, Alex, and Lena when Ruby’s at a sleepover. And then Reign has her things, where she brutally murders gangsters and criminals roaming the streets.And that’sfine.
Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Arias & Reign, Samantha "Sam" Arias/Alex Danvers
Comments: 8
Kudos: 108





	violent delights

**Author's Note:**

> yes i'm posting this a day earlier than the original prompt for Sam week bc ao3 wanna fuck around on me when it comes to publishing dates lol
> 
> anyways enjoy this au where sam and reign share a body for most of sam's life, and sam's kinda just accepted it. mostly.

i wanna be a hero, but the villain's having more fun.

—  _ too late for me,  _ beth crowley.

* * *

It’s raining again, the icy grey sky grumbling restlessly from above as cold, fat drops pour down over the city with a roar. Soon, the roof she’s perched on is flooded with rain water, puddles quick to form around her, washing over her boots. 

She blinks hard from behind her mask. The rain is hardly a distraction for her; rather, it’s merely an inconvenience, and she tightens her grip on her sword. 

The target in sight, a bright crackle of lightning, and then— 

_ “khahp nahn ehswit,” _

—she is awakened. 

* * *

Sam’s first real memory is of Reign.

Throughout most of her life, Sam has only ever seen glimpses of her. Staring back with blood-red eyes in the mirror, her shadow reflected in windows, her face looking up through the ripples of rain puddles. Reign is always with her, like an extra, unwanted limb, mask firmly in place. Occasionally, it’s like she’ll lean down and whisper in Sam’s ear, voice low and warped and eerie enough to send a chill down her spine, every time. 

She still remembers, vaguely, the first time she’d learned that the other kids in her class did not have a genetically-engineered Kryptonian warrior living inside them. 

“She’s a part of you,” Patricia would say, glasses perched on her nose as she read one of her books, without even looking up. Unworried. “You’re going to have to deal with that, dear.” 

But now that she’s older, her body more capable, Reign calls her a vessel. Sam goes to bed and wakes up with hardly any recollection of the times when Reign uses her body. She tries hard not to let herself think about these nights, about what may or may not have happened, and most of the time, she succeeds.

It’s the few times when she doesn’t succeed that brings forth the nightmares that plague her on the nights when Reign doesn’t take over, when Sam wakes up still hearing the agonizing screams in her head, chasing her beyond her dreams. She sees the blood staining her shirt, coating her hands, dripping in her eyes. 

[Always a different person’s scream. Always a different person’s blood.]

When Ruby is born, Reign starts to retreat within herself, starts to come out less. But she’s still there, hovering, watching from the sidelines until she’s needed once again.

And it’s not always bad. Because yeah, sometimes Sam wakes up with only vague, blurry recollections of her hands being used to choke someone, and other times it’s the eyes that do it, burning white-hot but glowing red as they cut through fragile, weak flesh. 

But other times, Sam knows Reign doesn’t do anything, at least that night. Sometimes she simply likes to be corporeal. And Sam doesn’t blame her, not really; she even starts to get  _ used _ to her, and the nightmares start to bother her less and less as time goes on.

She had asked Lena once if there was any way she could separate herself from Reign without killing one or both of them. At the time, it’d been a hypothetical question — she’d just finished her third glass of wine, and the question had slipped out on accident, but Sam hadn’t actually meant it at the time. 

“There is one way,” Lena has told her, eyes serious. “But it’s dangerous, Sam. I hope you’re not—“ 

“I’m not,” Sam had insisted, shaking her head furiously. “Definitely not.” 

The thing between her and Reign is— it’s a  _ bond.  _ Despite what the Worldkiller has done with her body, what she’s done to others, she’s a part of her. Sam has spent her whole life with Reign, and for all the ‘foolishness’ she thinks Sam possesses, she  _ protects _ her. 

The difference between Sam and Reign, though, is that Sam has a conscience. She has morals and empathy and, above all, mercy.

The Worldkiller does not.

Sam drops Ruby off at a friend’s house for a birthday party in the evening, and by the time midnight rolls around, Reign has killed a whole gang operating on the outskirts of National City.

But that is — that is fine. 

Sam has her things, where she bakes cookies for Ruby’s soccer team and goes to PTA meetings and gets wine-drunk with Kara, Alex, and Lena when Ruby’s at a sleepover. And then Reign has her things, where she brutally murders gangsters and criminals roaming the streets. 

And that’s  _ fine.  _

* * *

The nightmares start up again just a few weeks into the move. 

Sam jolts awake, her shirt clinging to her skin, her forehead broken out in a cold sweat. The covers are strewn among the bed haphazardly, and she’s almost in a fighting position when she wakes up, as if continuing on her dream. 

“Did they at least deserve it?” she asks Reign quietly, rubbing a hand over her tired face. 

_ Of course they did,  _ Reign answers. _ I would not have rid the planet of their kind if they didn’t.  _

Sam presses her head back into the pillows. 

Reign’s murderous nighttime routine becomes breaking news early the next morning. There is a still of her perched on the roof of a building, black cape billowing behind her, mask firmly in place, the red of her eyes still able to be seen in the grainy photograph taken.

Then, in big bold letters on the bottom of the screen in Sam’s office: **_New_** **_Masked Vigilante Reigns Terror on National City._**

_ ‘Reigns’ terror,  _ Reign echoes the headline, sounding almost amused; Sam just feels sick to her stomach. 

“This isn’t good, Reign. We can’t— this can’t be a thing! They think what you’re doing is evil,” Sam argues, panicked. 

_ These humans do not possess the capability to understand that I am dispensing justice upon their city!  _ Reign argues back, and the air around Sam grows colder and colder as the Worldkiller grows agitated.  _ They will see soon enough that I am not the one to be feared. _

“This isn’t good,” Sam repeats, like it’s the only thing she is able to say.

_ What did you expect, Samantha?  _ Reign asks her.

Sam wraps her hands around her mug of coffee and pulls it closer towards herself. 

Well, what  _ did _ she expect? 

The news spreads throughout L-Corp like a disease, and Sam hears Lena before she actually sees her, heels clacking against the floor all the way down the hall. The door to her office flings open not a second later, and Lena is standing there in all of her glory, glaring at Sam like she’s done something wrong. 

“You  _ idiot— _ ” she starts to say as she marches towards Sam’s desk. “You absolute buffoon.” 

Sam frowns. “Buffoon?” she echoes, but Lena interrupts her with a sharp eyebrow raise. 

“Samantha. I’ve known you for a very long time,” she begins, palms flat against the desk. “A  _ very _ long time. Meaning I’ve also known Reign for a very long time, and now I would just like to ask you this. What the  _ hell _ were you thinking?” 

Sam leans back in her chair, swallowing thickly. “It wasn’t me, Lena. I don’t  _ let _ her out, she comes out when she wants to. And, besides,” She waves a hand in the air vaguely, desperate to justify anything, “How is this any different from what Supergirl does?” 

Lena’s jaw clenches and unclenches. “Supergirl does not murder them and leave their bodies to be found the next day,” she snaps. “The city will not agree with this. They’ll paint you—”

“ _ Reign _ ,” Sam corrects, but Lena just plows right through. 

“—as a criminal that needs to be taken out, especially by Supergirl. This is dangerous territory, Sam. I’d rather not lose one of my oldest friends over this.” 

“You won’t,” Sam insists, though a deep part of her doesn’t know if she should be promising that. “I’ll be fine, Lena.” 

They look at the screen again. At the bottom, the headline now reads out:  **5 Found Dead.**

**“** Get this—  _ her— _ under control,” Lena scolds, before the door to her office slams shut with a harsh bang. 

Reign stops killing people for approximately two weeks. 

In her defense, Sam knows that’s the longest time she’s gone without murdering anyone since she first started, so she applauds her for that. 

She does _ not _ applaud her the morning after her ‘relapse’ when she wakes up with a splitting headache— and another news story of a local drug trafficker getting strangled to death and left in a dumpster behind a McDonalds. 

* * *

Alex Danvers becomes a new fixture in her life thanks to Kara and Lena, and Sam likes her. Reign, though, growls when she gets too close, or throws a smile her way, or simply  _ exists _ in the same vicinity.

So, yeah, that’s a thing now. In between murdering the civilians of National City, Reign also seems to feel the need to scold Sam for her new friendships at every turn. 

_ She’s making you weak,  _ she huffs, sharp nails digging painfully into Sam’s skin but leaving no marks.  _ She’s ruining you.  _

“She’s not,” Sam insists, rolling her eyes at Reign’s dramatics. 

The Worldkiller takes no comfort in her words, the already vice-like grip on her shoulder somehow tightening, another low growl crawling its way up her throat.

Sam rolls her eyes again.

The thing is: she has known Reign her whole life. She was there when she took her first steps, and when she started her first day of middle school, and when she graduated from business school with her MBA. They’ve had a thousand different conversations and a thousand different arguments. And more often than not, Reign notices things before she does, and Sam is used to this. 

So she’s not surprised in the slightest when, one morning as she’s making breakfast for her and Ruby, Reign says, _you like_ _the annoying, fragile human,_ as if it is a fact.

Sam flips another pancake over on the griddle and frowns. “What?”

_ You like her,  _ Reign repeats. 

“I do not,” Sam tries to argue, turning away so Reign can’t see the warm blush that immediately takes over her face. She can feel the Worldkiller’s essence hovering just behind her, the cold from Reign’s body seeping into her own space. She shivers. 

_ Deny it all you want. You’re fond of her. _

Sam ignores her. Mostly because she knows Reign is right. 

In between being a mom and being a CFO for L-Corp, she’s also slowly starting to become Alex’s best friend, and it doesn’t take her long to get back to where she was when she was younger — meaning, back to the awkward, pining mess that she used to be in high school with petty crushes and prom dates. 

And it’s even worse now than it was before, because months into their blossoming friendship, Alex gets a new rank and a new uniform and, oh God, a new  _ haircut,  _ and Sam really doesn’t think she’s going to make it. 

Over the span of those few months, Sam falls in love with Alex like a natural disaster. 

She falls in love with Alex fast and furious and helpless. She falls back in love with her like lightning striking the ground; a spark, a crash, an impossible sudden flood of knowing. It is fast and hard and  _ life-changing _ , and there is no going back to how she was before.

Of course, Sam doesn’t  _ tell _ Alex that she’s fallen in love with her, though— because the thing about Alex is that she’s just a little bit terrifying, and not the kind of woman who would appreciate someone staring at her wide-eyed and sort of drunk. 

Alex is sort of terrifying, but in a way that’s so undoubtedly attractive that Sam has trouble breathing; not every non-superpowered woman can flip a man twice her size over her shoulder like it’s nothing, or fling herself off a third-story balcony without the slightest bit of hesitation. 

Alex is sort of terrifying in the most dangerous way possible. 

But no one else can do a lot of the things she does, as easy as breathing. 

_ “You don’t meet a woman like  _ that _ every day,”  _ a voice that’s not Reign drawls in the back of her head, one that sounds suspiciously like Lena when she’s had too many drinks and just wants to talk about the ‘disappointing’ fact that Sam hasn’t dated anyone since… well, since Ruby. 

And Sam wants to think that maybe, just  _ maybe _ Alex likes her back. 

Maybe. Hopefully.

One night, Sam drives Alex out to the underground alien bar, and Alex is drunk only thirty minutes in. Sam watches from the bar as she dances, fun and relaxed and sweaty. It’s only when she seems to stumble over herself that Sam perks up. 

“You okay?” she screams over the pounding of the music, seeing the goosebumps that have erupted over Alex’s arms. 

“No, I’m fine,” Alex insists, because God forbid badass Director Danvers could be anything otherwise _.  _

“Are you sure?” 

“No, no, listen—“ Alex is saying, or slurring, more like it, with a strong hand on Sam’s shoulder as she continues to sway her hips to the music. “I’m good! Look!” She walks in more of a zig-zag way, stumbling, but still smiling. “Straight line.” 

Sam purses her lips. There might be nothing funnier in the world than a drunken Alex Danvers. 

Part of her feels bad about letting her get this intoxicated. She knows it’s her job to look out for her, because god knows she won’t look out for  _ herself _ , but she reminds herself that Alex is an adult, and to take that choice away from her wouldn’t go over well anyway. 

For as compassionate and charming as Alex is, she’s equally as stubborn, and Sam has known her long enough by now to know that by playing the Mom friend, Alex might’ve downed a fourth tequila shot just to spite her. 

But she’s a funny drunk, at least, and seems to be in a good enough mood considering the stress she’s been under for the past few weeks. She’s all smiles and giggles —  _ giggles,  _ Sam can’t believe it — from the dance floor, and Sam has to bite her lip to keep from laughing outright. 

Still, there’s anxiety thrumming beneath her skin as she watches over her friend, and it must be almost palpable, because Reign comments on it halfway through the night.  _ The Director will be fine. _

Sam takes a sip of her water and says nothing, ignoring the way her blood jumps. It shouldn’t. She hasn’t been caught red-handed or anything, and it wasn’t even like she was doing something wrong by watching Alex dance. 

_ Samantha,  _ Reign says, more forcefully.  _ Your mate will be fine.  _

“She’s wearing heels,” Sam points out, pointedly ignoring the word ‘mate,’ but Reign just scoffs deep inside her head. 

_ Oh, Rao. You have always been too tense,  _ she argues. Sam opens her mouth to object to this, but then Alex’s arms are wrapped around her neck, pulling her down to her own height, and she’s murmuring in her ear, “You’re so pretty, you know that?” 

And Sam promptly chokes on air.

“I— What?” 

“You’re just—“ Alex sighs, breath warm against Sam’s lips, and, fuck, Sam wants to kiss her. But she can’t, because Alex is drunk and doesn’t know what she’s saying and Sam knows she’s not going to remember any of this in the morning. “I miss you.” 

“What do you mean?” Sam asks, taking in the flush of Alex’s cheeks. “I’m right here.” 

“But you’re— you’re not, though,” and Alex’s nose scrunches up as it does when she’s angry or confused, and Sam swallows dryly when calloused fingertips come up to press against her cheek. “You… go somewhere, in your head, I mean— that isn’t here. All the time. Where do you go?” 

_ To Reign,  _ Sam thinks, but doesn’t say. 

“Come on,” she says instead, wrapping her hand around Alex’s elbow. “Let’s get you home.” 

_ Your mate is snoring too loud,  _ is the first thing Sam hears once Alex has fallen asleep, tucked tightly into the covers of Sam’s own bed, drooling on her pillow. 

Sam rolls her eyes. “Alex isn’t my ‘mate.’ Please stop using that word.”

Reign is silent for a moment. Hovering over her, the chill down her spine an indication of the Worldkiller glowering over her shoulder.  _ Would you rather me call her your companion?  _

It’s a serious question, and Sam groans. “She’s not my— we’re _ friends _ .” 

Beside her, Alex snores again, little noises from her nose, and despite herself, Sam can’t help the smile that crosses her features at the sleeping Director. 

Reign’s distaste for her emotions is almost palpable itself.  _ You’re staring. _

“Shut up!”

* * *

When Alex finally kisses her one night, at Kara Danvers’ Christmas party, Sam can feel Reign’s disdain flow through her veins almost immediately. 

They’re both far from just being ‘tipsy’, dizzy from red wine and a few glasses of Alex’s special not-your-grandma’s eggnog, and her lips are warm and soft against Sam’s under the mistletoe above them, pressing deeper and deeper. Sam melts into it, scoots closer to where Alex is sitting and curls a hand around the back of her neck, fingers playing at strands of auburn hair.

_ Disgusting,  _ Reign scolds her.  _ What did I say about her making you weak? _

Sam just kisses her harder. 

* * *

But, like all things, the contentment does not last long.

Things start to go downhill particularly fast the moment Reign first makes it known that she is not a fan of Supergirl. And as it turns out, the feelings are mutual; it becomes increasingly harder to ignore the tension when Supergirl calls Reign out publicly.

“Look what you did,” Sam groans, burying her face in her hands. “You made an enemy of a beloved superhero that has done nothing to you!”

_ She is pathetic,  _ Reign argues.  _ She doesn't know how to protect this city.  _

After that, it’s the NCPD that tries first to draw out Reign over the next few weeks. Then it’s the DEO _.  _

In the end, it’s Supergirl that succeeds.

It is a different sensation, Sam notes, when Reign takes control of her body this time. It’s almost like she’s still here, rather than being shut out from everything, the anger coursing through her. Like an out-of-body experience, and Sam wonders if this is how Reign feels all the time.

She can feel  _ everything;  _ the gravel under her boots, her cape whipping behind her in the wind, but more specifically, the material of Supergirl’s suit twisted up in her fist. And she can  _ see _ Supergirl, bruised and bloodied and looking nothing like she’s seen National City’s beloved superhero before. 

_ You are no god,  _ Reign bellows, the growl rising from her throat, dragging Supergirl by the front of her suit to dangle above the city.  _ Just as I am no devil. All I am is truth, and judgement, and death. And I will Reign.  _

The fist enclosed around her suit opens, Reign’s eyes burning, and Supergirl plummets to the ground. 

**Author's Note:**

> this might have multiple chapters if i get inspiration lmao


End file.
